Now though, I am full of erotic fascination. Sensual curiosity. I want to research every inch of this monster with my tongue.
And that’s why, after I settle on my knees between his spread thighs, I don’t immediately direct my attention to his lap.
Instead, I reach out and take hold of his left forearm, pulling one of his white-knuckled fists to me.
“Mor …”
I pause. “Do you want me to stop?”
“N-no.”
Carefully, I guide his fingers straight, then spread them until the webbing between each digit is stretched tight.
And I lick the warm, delicate skin, laving affection and fascination on this vulnerable area.
Bo gasps, his hips rocking with each pass of my tongue.
“Gods,” he mutters. “You’re gonna kill me. With just your sweet mouth on my hands. Hell …”
His head drops back, and as I give the same affection to his right hand, I enjoy the salty taste of him while watching the muscles strain in his neck and down his torso.
All the while, my panties grow damp, and my excitement at knowing that I’m physically turned on by Bo only makes me hotter.
Throughout my webbed-finger sucking, his dick twitches and jerks, pre-cum beading on the slit and starting to drip down the mushroom-shaped head.
I want to know what that part of him tastes like too. I set his now-relaxed hands back on his thighs and lean forward. A thickvein runs from the base to the tip, and I trace that easy-to-follow guide with my tongue until I reach his juice. Then I encircle the flared head with my lips and suck.
“Ah!” Bo barks out the guttural exclamation and reaches back to grab hold of the ornate wooden frame of the chaise. As if he’s afraid his body might float off the couch.
No need for him to worry though because I strap him in with my body. I drape my arms over his thighs and slip my hands between his ass and the cushions, loving the feel of his clenching glutes against my palms.
Once his member is in my mouth, I see no reason to ever let him leave. He’s all warm and savory. Fun to lick and suck. I experiment with how much of Bo I can fit in my mouth—which is not too much, unfortunately. A deep-throater I am not. But he seems plenty pleased with the inches I manage from the words he babbles out.
“Gods. Holy fucking gods. Your-your mouth … I’ll die. I’ll die if you stop, Mor. Gods, I want more. I want you Mor. Always. Always, Mor.”
Then he continues to chant, either my name or a direction for me to give him more.
Either way, I’m happy to oblige, sucking harder, humming my happiness at how much I’m enjoying this activity, then letting out little moans when I press my thighs together and envision him sinking this same dick inside me.
Goddess, I can’t wait.
And knowing that I want to have sex, that I’m eager for it, has me grinning wide when I let Bo slip out of my mouth.
He stares down at me over his sweat-slicked chest that rises and falls rapidly, his eyes wide with bewilderment, like he still can’t believe this is happening.
“Do you want to come in my mouth? Because I also want to ride you. No pressure, but I’ve never orgasmed with another person before, but I think you could get me there, Bo.”
35
Bo
“I thinkyou could get me there, Bo.”
This beautiful witch speaks like I’m something special. Someone special.
As if I can do for her what no one else can.
Mor gazes up at me with such trust, such wanting, that I’m not able to manage a response at first.
